A/N: In which Jace and Lavinia discuss the logistics of relationships, Jace has an unexpected visitor, and Lavinia is inconvenienced.

Chapter Eleven

Jace hunched over a pile of half-signed paperwork. He was very, very tired of looking at his desk. One of Lavinia's arresters had noticed his absence during his dinner with Ral, and Lavinia had quietly requested that he refrain from leaving his office without guards until they could find the attempted assassins. Jace had eventually given in and promised, which he was now regretting quite a lot. It had been nearly a week since he had seen anything other than the inside of his office.

For a little while in the morning, he had called up an illusion of the wilds near Utvara, but he was still tired, and he had been forced to let it drop when he needed to concentrate. With a sigh, he reached for the next paper, but paused as a light knock on the door heralded Lavinia's entrance.

"You know, Jace, you might consider taking a break at some point," she said mildly.

He frowned. "And do what?" he asked. "Do you have any leads on that assassin yet? I'm going crazy in here."

Lavinia put a light hand on his shoulder. "Jace, I promise I will tell you when we have an update."

Jace shook his head. "I heard bells," he said. "As if someone's thoughts had been replaced. Do you think it was the Dimir?"

"We have discussed this at least once a day since you returned, Guildpact. The devices that attacked you were of Izzet manufacture," Lavinia responded, "but it's entirely possible that their originator is a pawn of the Dimir, yes. Now is there anything you need?"

"I need to get out of here for a little while. I'm going crazy," Jace said again, a little more fiercely than he'd meant to.

"I don't think that would be advisable," said Lavinia, softly.

Jace grunted noncommittally. She was being perfectly reasonable, but his brain did not want to be reasonable right now. With a rough sigh, he tried to maneuver the conversation clumsily toward something else he had wanted to ask her about. "Lavinia," he said slowly, staring fixedly at the paper in front of him. "Er, I've been wondering. Is there—ah—any provision for romance between the Living Guildpact and a member of—" this was not subtle, there was no point in even trying for subtlety, "—a member of, say, the Izzet League?"

Lavinia made a tiny sound, which was probably a laugh that she had hastily turned into a cough. "Technically, by Azorius statute four-hundred-seven, and according to your non-existent birth records, your status is officially 'guildless,' Jace." Jace winced. He knew that the lack of birth records was something of a sore point for his efficient friend. Lavinia continued after a moment of pointed silence, "There is no proscription forbidding a guildless person from having relations with a member of a guild in general. Certain guilds do place restrictions on romantic relationships or requirements for such romances to be approved; however, the Izzet League is not one of them. Furthermore, as the Guildpact was, until recently, non-sentient and non-sapient, there is no specific rule on the books one way or the other regarding your specific position. I would, however, advise caution. The political ramifications of a more public relationship might be—negative."

All of which had been approximately what Jace had expected her to say. "Is there anything you think I could do to, um, minimize those ramifications?"

Lavinia raised an eyebrow. "Discretion," she said succinctly. "There are already rumors about your love-life, Guildpact, and so far no one has become particularly incensed, except for the sort of people who become incensed as a matter of professional pride."

Jace blinked. " 'Professional pride?' " he reiterated.

Lavinia gave him a small smile. "I was thinking of some of the customers of the Rakdos gossip purveyors," she responded.

Jace, who had in his more sordid past occasionally provided content to said purveyers, considered the kinds of things that might be said about a relationship between the Living Guildpact and an Izzet guildmage, and cringed. "I'll be discreet," he said hurriedly. "Hypothetically, if someone were to try and blackmail me…"

"Technically speaking, blackmail as such is not illegal. There are a number of restrictions that a clever arrester could probably bring against such a person, but by the nature of blackmail…" Lavinia trailed off for a moment, and Jace nodded uncomfortably, his imagination throwing up a number of unpleasant possibilities once more. "I can see you follow my drift, Guildpact. If such a thing were to happen, I would advise you to come directly to me."

"Thank you," Jace said sincerely. "I really appreciate that."

Lavinia leaned over him and gave him a conspiratorial wink. "I've had occasion to be concerned about such things myself," she said. "My own, er, involvement is inter-guild and might cause some—comment. Fortunately, my partner exerts a good deal of control over the flow of the gossip channels."

This was the first Jace had heard about Lavinia being romantically involved with anyone, and it took nearly all his strength of will not to satisfy his curiosity by peering into her skull. "You really need to tell me more than that," he said.

"At some point, Guildpact. The relationship is in its early stages, and I wouldn't want to jeopardize it—not even to satisfy your insatiable curiosity."

Jace blushed. "Sorry," he murmured.

"I did say I'd tell you at some point," Lavinia replied mildly. "And in return, you really must promise to tell me if anything happens between you and Guildmage Zarek."

"Er," said Jace.

"Ohhh?" said Lavinia.

"The, er, the evening I was gone…"

Lavinia's eyebrows were expressive. "I see," she said, with interest.

Jace gave her a conciliatory smile. "I didn't think you'd want to know that I'd been out."

"Only because I didn't want you to be out."

"Details." Jace waved an airy hand.

"Yes, I'd like them," Lavinia answered immediately, and he was forced to chuckle. "You seem busy now, though. Shall I let you get on with your paperwork?"

He sighed heavily. "I suppose so."

"If I come across anything more interesting that requires your attention, I promise you that I will bring it to you immediately," Lavinia said, pausing at the door to his office. "Just—please give us a little more time, Jace. You nearly died."

He nodded with some chagrin. "Yes, all right."

As the door shut behind her, he sighed and turned back to the pile of papers in front of him.

It was an hour or two later when the door opened again. "Lavinia," Jace said without looking up, "I really need a break. If I don't get out of this room, I might summon a dragon to rip it apart."

"Jace." It wasn't Lavinia. Jace turned in shock at the sound of the soft, familiar voice. Emmara Tandris wore a simple, sleeveless dress of dark, dyed cloth. The unusual color faded her already pale skin and made her seem almost ghostlike, her fair hair tied back severely from her boney face. Her eyes were red, her hands clutched nervously in the folds of her dress. She looked very small and vulnerable. "Are you all right?" she continued.

"I—" The sight of her plucked painfully at his heart, but he managed to pull himself together. "It's good to see you," he said awkwardly. "Yes—I'm fine."

She crossed the room in a few quick strides and reached out for him, but he leaned instinctively backward, and Emmara's face crumpled slightly with pain. "Jace, what did I do?" she croaked.

"What?"

"You're surprised to see me." It wasn't a question. "You're actually surprised that I came to make sure that you weren't hurt, after all of Ravnica heard about the attacks."

"Emmara, I—just—" Jace stalled a little. "I didn't think you'd want to—"

"What? You didn't think I'd want to make sure my closest friend was still alive?" She bit out the words. "After my lover was replaced by a Dimir infiltrator and killed without my knowledge, you thought what? That I wouldn't have time for one of my oldest friends?"

"It's just that I'm—"

"Don't you dare say human." Jace, who had almost said, 'a planeswalker', shut his mouth, half in shame, half in fear of what he would say if he let himself talk. "Have I ever treated you differently?" Emmara asked. "Tell me, Jace, was that why you stopped talking to me when I needed you?"

Another unpleasant stab of pain in the general vicinity of Jace's heart. "Emmara—I thought—you would need time," he said. Which was not entirely true, but was the closest thing to the truth he could say without breaking several promises he had made to both himself and to her. "I'm sorry," he added, helplessly. Standing up, he opened his arms and his mind—not enough to see her thoughts, but enough to feel what she was feeling. Her grief and anger beat at him like the wings of a caged bird against its bars.

Emmara stared for a long moment and then stepped forward slowly, burying her face in the front of his shirt, her anger melting away in an instant. "I missed you," she whispered. "You're my friend, Jace."

He put a careful hand on her hair. Standing like this, she was so small, but his image of Emmara was large and expansive, like the house she had welcomed him into when he was barely more than a child. "I'm sorry," he said again. He might need someone to know his secrets, but he and Emmara had been friends long before Jace had had anyone else to turn to. One person couldn't be everything—and he'd turned his back on her in her grief, for brutally selfish reasons. Guilt twisted at his stomach. He wanted to apologize again, but instead he just held Emmara and let her cry.

"I was worried about you," she said fiercely. "I thought I'd lost—I thought I'd lost my last friend."

Jace bit his lip. "I thought—when you joined the Conclave—I suppose I thought you didn't need me anymore."

"Oh, Jace," she said miserably into his shirt-front. "Aren't you the mind-reader?"

"I'm clearly not a very good one," Jace said. "I'm really sorry, Emmara."

"I'm just glad you're not dead," she said. "It would be harder to make you apologize if you were dead."

"I'm also glad that I'm not dead," Jace agreed. "But I should have been there for you." He stepped back and took her hands in his. "Is there any way I can make it up to you?"

Emmara looked up with a watery smile. "Actually, there is one thing," she said.

Lavinia sighed as she settled her sword onto her hip. She was off duty for the evening, but she didn't entirely like to leave Jace. She was aware that Arrester Flavia and the others under her command were perfectly competent, but her brain was crowded with irrational fears. Still, she could hardly just give up sleeping until they had caught whoever it was who was trying to kill Jace. An exhausted guard might be worse than no guard at all.

She started down the alley she normally took as a shortcut back to her apartment. Mulling over the difficult situation and staring at her feet intently, she nearly walked right into the black carriage blocking her way. Stepping back with a surprised intake of breath, she narrowly avoided being struck in the face by the opening door.

"Please enter the carriage and put on this blindfold," said someone from the dim interior.

Lavinia took a cautious step back. "I don't have time for this," she said.

"Please enter the carriage and put on this blindfold," the voice said again, using precisely the same intonation. A hand dropped onto Lavinia's shoulder from somewhere behind her, urging her forward, and she complied this time. She decided not to look back at what the hand was attached to.

The blindfold smelled stale and dusty, and Lavinia did not get a look at whoever—or whatever—helped her affix it over her eyes. During the short carriage ride, which was not uncomfortable, she took careful mental notes of the route, so that by the time she was helped out, she knew exactly where she was. The slight rounding of the cobblestones beneath her worn boots reaffirmed her suspicions as she was helped out and led into a cold room with a narrow doorway.

"Please undress," said the monotonous voice of the creature that had put on her blindfold. Lavinia ground her teeth, but complied slowly. A cold hand brushed against her shoulder as something took her clothes, then against her side as a thin strip of cloth was wound around her, across her breasts. The process was repeated with another strip that was tied rather intricately around her lower half.

"Please walk with us," said the voice, and Lavinia complied, the cold of the floor seeping up through the naked soles of her feet. They walked through several corridors, passing close to several other people, whom Lavinia could hear but not see from behind the blindfold. Finally, after a number of twists and turns and at least one staircase, on which she nearly twisted an ankle thanks to a loose stone, she was taken through two sets of heavy double-doors, and the guiding hand on her shoulder was removed.

"Thank you," said a female voice. "You may go." The door opened and shut behind Lavinia. "You can take off the blindfold if you want," the same voice said, sounding amused.

Lavinia reached up, clawed it off, and glared at the occupant of the chair in front of her, whose eyes were traveling appreciatively up and down her form. "Goddammit," she said. "I was going to go home and rest."

"There's a robe on the wall," said the woman in the chair, wincing slightly as she shifted one leg. "I apologize for the manner of your conveyance here."

"Teysa, I swear, if you don't have a good reason for this—" growled Lavinia. "I would have killed both your thrulls if I hadn't recognized the voice."

The Orzhov envoy smiled faintly. "I doubt anyone would look twice at a young woman blindfolded and dressed as you are right now within these walls," she said. "An Azorius arrester, though, might cause comment."

Lavinia shrugged on the soft robe hanging on the wall and burrowed into it. "C-cold," she said, her teeth chattering. "Why did you want to see me?"

Teysa rose slowly, favoring her bad leg. "Do I need a reason?" she asked, crossing the room and putting a hand on Lavinia's shoulder. She leaned up to kiss the Azorius arrester on the cheek.

"If this is a date, I'd rather have a warning first," Lavinia grumbled.

"It's not just that," Teysa responded, leaning on the other woman's arm. "I have heard some—troubling rumors in the past few days."

"You mean like the near-death of the Living Guildpact because his bodyguard is useless?" Lavinia asked brightly.

"Oh, my dear girl," said Teysa. "Don't be too hard on yourself. From what I've seen of our Guildpact, he dives headfirst into trouble like a dragon into its hoard."

"Yes," Lavinia agreed grimly.

"Would you like something to drink?" the Orzhov mage asked. "In any case, I merely wanted to know how the investigation is going."

"No, thank you," Lavinia responded to the first question, then gave the other woman a frustrated look. "It's—not, really. We know the culprit must be a member of the Izzet, but there simply aren't any other leads."

Teysa patted her on the arm, heading slowly across the room toward what Lavinia knew was a discreet liquor cabinet. "Sometimes you're adorably naïve," she said. "There are always leads, if you are willing to pay the price necessary to find them."

"Do you have any actual wisdom to impart? Or just vague platitudes?"

"My sources concur that it is a member of the Izzet."

"You don't think that it is Zarek, do you?"

Teysa shook her head. "There is some suggestion of Dimir complicity. It was not, I think, a terribly serious attempt, if the Dimir are to blame. Perhaps they were testing the waters? In any case, had Zarek been responsible, I do not imagine you would have seen the Guildpact again after the two of them disappeared together. He doesn't play that kind of game."

At the mention of House Dimir, Lavinia's hand instinctively dropped to her belt before remembering that her sword was back in whatever dressing room Teysa's thrull had taken her to. "Do you have any proof?"

"Unfortunately, not yet," replied Teysa, pouring herself a glass of something amber that was probably strong. "I just wanted to warn you to be on your guard."

Lavinia awkwardly followed her across the room and squeezed her elbow before bending to kiss the shorter woman's cheek. "Well, thank you," she said. "I do appreciate it." She smirked. "Jace was asking me about the—logistics—of relationships today."

Teysa sighed, and Lavinia felt the Orzhov envoy lean back against her. "Is this Zarek?" she asked.

"I never said Jace had good taste," Lavinia pointed out in amusement.

"You're sure it's not Tandris?"

"I'm very sure," Lavinia said, sadly. "Which is a pity, because she might actually instill a little caution in him."

"Zarek would not be my first choice for discretion," Teysa said meditatively. "Still, the man is brave and proud. And loyal, though he doesn't let anyone know it. The Guildpact could do much worse. In fact, certain of my sources say he has."

"You and your sources," Lavinia mocked. "I think you—"

A measured knock on the door interrupted her statement before she could finish it. She groaned in irritation, but Teysa squeezed her arm and made for an ornate cane leaning against the wall. She hobbled quickly across the room and over to the door, which she opened only slightly to lean out and talk. A few low words were exchanged, and she turned back to Lavinia, looking worried. "There are reports of a break-in at the Guildpact's office," she said.

"Get me my clothes," snapped Lavinia.